


Antlers

by werelupewoods



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 14:12:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19274950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/werelupewoods/pseuds/werelupewoods
Summary: " They’re only a half dozen words deep into this conversation, but already Cassius feels on the edge of another guilt-ridden breakdown. His sudden nausea is almost unbearable. The aching in his skull is back thousandfold.But he swallows his pride — for once — despite knowing it’ll only make him choke more. He doesn’t exactly know how to respond. His mind’s a horrible, terrible place in this moment. He keeps silent, and he thinks as hard as he can. "Just a simple vignette; it's about time I wrote something with the new OCs hm (half-edited)





	Antlers

“Thirty-five years...”

Cassius pauses in his spiel of whatever-the-hell when he hears Nikolai mutter those few words. It’s the first thing the pale saluki has said since Cassius first entered his room — first sat down on the edge of the bed with a flourish, crossed his legs, pulled a small journal and pencil from his pocket, and said a confident, “So, tell me about yourself!” — and the red deer is honestly a bit confused by the tone in his husband’s voice.

Or... wait, no...

His _ex_ -husband, actually, with everything that’s just come out between them.

It’s still an odd thought...

But it’s one he needs to get used to, he supposes... So, he gives a little smile — that same sly, snarky smile he always seems to have despite any and all circumstances — and tilts his head slightly to the side. “Pardon?” he asks, watching as Nikolai gently sets down the pile of freshly-dried laundry he’s been folding so he can cross his arms.

Nikolai takes a deep breath, shaking his head, looking equal parts sombre, frustrated, and... appreciative, as always. Always so full of optimism. Always so full of love...

The saluki pulls his hair out of his face slightly, tossing a handful of the thick, straw-coloured tresses over his shoulder with a sigh. “We were married for _thirty-five years_ , Cassius,” Nikolai slowly begins, his tone unnaturally dark, turning his head in his once-husband’s direction but still keeping his gaze down for fear of what pained expression may be on Cassius’ face. “All that time, and you only _just now_ are asking me about myself...?” he asks, failing to maintain his kind composure. “Now that it...” _Now that it doesn’t matter..._ But he keeps that part to himself. He sighs in place of the rest of that sentence. He crosses his arms tighter. He takes a shaky breath.

If it were a few years, or months, or maybe even just a few _weeks_ in the past, Cassius would no doubt have quickly scoffed off the notion of that question. How silly! _Surely_ he must have asked! He’s the perfect husband, after all, right? He always has been!

...Or so he thought.

No, no, he shuts down his instinctual rebuttal before it fully forms in his gut. Times have changed now, after all. The truth’s come out — out and right through the roof of his mouth like a bullet. He’s gotten his rude awakening. Neither of them has gold around their fingers anymore, and it’s all his fault.

He needs to accept that — _fully_.

He needs to...

So, rather uncharacteristically, he actually takes the time to think: _has_ he ever cared about what Niko has to think or say? Or has he only ever cared about _himself...?_

The pause that comes with his thinking lasts long enough that the weight of Nikolai’s words becomes horrifyingly obvious — the sombre, pathetic truth that... _no_ , honestly. No, during the entire duration of their marriage (and possibly even _friendship_ ), Cassius had never actually bothered to ask Nikolai about himself. No, instead, he’d just gone by what he knew of him as they were growing up and filled in the blanks with whatever suited _his own_ fancy — a fancy that he has now come to realise was a most harmful delusion. He supposes he just... never realised that until now. There’s _a lot_ of things he’d never realised until now...

Gods...

How disgusting...

How could he have let this happen...?

They’re only a half dozen words deep into this conversation, but already Cassius feels on the edge of another guilt-ridden breakdown. His sudden nausea is almost unbearable. The aching in his skull is back thousandfold.

But he swallows his pride — for once — despite knowing it’ll only make him choke more. He doesn’t exactly know how to respond. His mind’s a horrible, terrible place in this moment. He keeps silent, and he thinks as hard as he can.

But Nikolai is keen, and he can feel the root of Cass’ current struggle, and so he sighs long for the both of them. He knows Cassius already feels guilty, and he doesn’t want to make it any worse, but... no, no, he can’t keep biting his own tongue just because Cass is feeling anything less than godlike. That’s how they got in this horrible situation in the first place, after all, isn’t it? From Nikolai refusing to hold his ground? It’s _his own_ fault, isn’t it? Or... or is that just what he’d been forced to believe to save himself and their corpse of a marriage?

He doesn’t know...

But he bites the conversation’s bullet before he can doubt himself anymore — he can’t keep holding his tongue in the face of Cassius’ unhappiness. “You know that I will _never_ take you back again, right...?” he asks, the words slow and dark, needing to turn his face entirely away as the thought leaves his lips, genuinely terrified of whatever expression may be on Cassius’ face in this moment.

The pause that follows is far too long.

But Nikolai refuses to look back — in more ways than one. He holds his breath.

Silence.

Then, after a few more heartbeats, Cassius finally exhales first — something between a laugh and a snort. It’s clearly at himself rather than Nikolai, though — at himself in the past. At all the pain he caused. At all the truth in Nikolai’s words. It’s not a _dismissive_ sound — no, no, it’s just... he genuinely has no idea how to process these sorts of emotions. Guilt. Pain. Rejection. Comeuppance. Anything less than pride and praise, honestly. All he can do is laugh at himself — he, nothing but a pathetic fool in life’s tragedy...

Silence, again, for a few moments.

Then... “Well... it’s still worth trying to be a better person, no?” Cassius asks. “You’re still my closest friend.”

_His voice is so light..._

It’s almost unbelievable given everything from the past.

Nikolai finally turns to look — embarrassingly quick, honestly, as if genuinely startled by the sound — and the expression Cassius is wearing is genuine.

The most genuine thing he feels he’s ever seen...

And so, after a few more moments of meeting the deer’s hollow blue gaze, Nikolai can’t fight the stinging in his eyes any longer, and he gives a bit of a smile — a smile, a nod, an exhale, and a thought to all the things that have changed. For better _and_ for worse, despite sickness and health, ‘til death do them part...

_He looks so different without his antlers..._


End file.
